


Let it Work, Just this Once...

by DaftPunk_DeLorean



Series: Unadulterated Sadness and Angst [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Feels, Ficlet, Immortal Bruce, M/M, Reference to death, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaftPunk_DeLorean/pseuds/DaftPunk_DeLorean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many generations had passed? Bruce had lost track of all the great-great-great-grandchildren of the people he used to love. He had no one. Entire lifetimes slipped fleetingly through his fingers before he even realized what was in his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it Work, Just this Once...

He looked down at the old photo in his lap, faded around the edges and in a scuffed up frame. He tenderly ran a shaking finger along the outline of Tony’s face and sighed with deep sadness. 

A long time ago, before he found something to live for (before he met _someone_ to live for), his own life held only bitterness and regret. He longed for an end, but the other guy refused. He woke up after each attempt feeling nothing but despair. 

Then there was Tony. And he couldn’t hold on to life any harder if he tried. 

He wiped away a tear that had fallen on the glass of the photo with his thumb. Even when stooped with age, Tony was alight with mischief and sass. He jokingly called himself a mad scientist when his hair and trademark goatee began to turn white, and Bruce always smiled at the sight of Tony in the lab with that wild, snowy halo. 

Even into his final years, Tony made remarkable discoveries and advancements in technology, even if Bruce had to help him dress in the morning or cut his food into smaller pieces. Tony had always waved it off with a joke, but had learned that the more patient the smile, the more Bruce’s heart was breaking.

How many generations had passed? Bruce had lost track of all the great-great-great-grandchildren of the people he used to love. He had no one. Entire lifetimes slipped fleetingly through his fingers before he even realized what was in his hand.

He pressed the photo to his lips, before holding it to his heart. It was one of his favorites. He and Tony were sitting at a lab table, both looking up in laughing surprise at the photographer. Tony was defiant of social norms to the end, and was endearingly ridiculous in a t-shirt, jeans, and red converse sneakers. His cottony hair pushed back by a pair of welding glasses, and the glow of his arc reactor reflected in the mess of wires and metal in front of him. Bruce was pressed against Tony’s side, welding glasses pushed up into his dark brown curls, one strong arm steadying Tony’s back, and the other holding the welder to a spot that Tony indicated with a gloved finger. He looked like Tony’s grandson. 

When Tony sighed in his sleep one final, peaceful time, the arc reactor continued to glow, tirelessly working to keep shrapnel out of a heart that would never beat again.

Bruce looked down at the handgun resting on the floor by his knee, and pulled a single vibranium bullet from his pocket. He clutched the photo to him tightly, and begged the other guy to let this be the time that it worked.


End file.
